


Made of glass.

by Follevolo



Series: Gallavich Week 2.0 [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Day Two, Fluff, M/M, future!fic, gallavich week 2.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Follevolo/pseuds/Follevolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is being very unmickeyly sweet and Ian misses his big guy. Also Ian is being a little bitch and Mickey isn't having any of it. He loves him and that's what he fucking gets, and he better be fine with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made of glass.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I don't even know.

«Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Wake up!»

Ian was dreaming. He was profoundly, deeply, miraculously dreaming. He was in the hyper uranium, in the land where everything is possible. Mickey is there, too. His embrace around his hips is strong, and he is smiling, and he is naked while smiling, which is even better; his skin is soft under the sun. They don’t really do anything in particular, they just exist, in a blessed, peaceful way, and just the fact that they are, make that parallel universe kind of perfect.

A lame part of Ian’s brain, probably the awake one, is wondering if that’s paradise. Another part, the awake and annoying one, is wondering if in that universe he would still be a freak. But they are tiny parts of him, and he shushed them lazily, focusing on the happy part of him who’s just laying suspended in a fraction of a dream with no time and place, no surroundings, no sounds, just two naked bodies in wonderful nothingness, smiling.

«Oh, Ian! Come on, man! Raise and shine»

I don’t wanna wake up. I wanna stay with you in the other word. The happy one.

Ian grunted, annoyed, and he opened one eye just a little, gingerly.

Well, this world wasn’t so bad, after all. Mickey was there, too, sat next to him on the bed with a big, encouraging smile on his face. He wasn’t naked, though. Too bad.

But it was enough to open the other eye, and now that his vision was complete, he regretted it.

«Oh, fuck» he groaned, shutting his eyes again and hiding his head under the pillow like a fucking five-years-old.

«Yeah, yeah. It’ meds time. Please, don’t be difficult»

Ian sighed. He indulged a few second more in the memory of his dream before coming back to reality.

He swallowed his party favors slowly, one after the other. He hated them. He hated everything about them. The way his mouth tasted funny for hours after taking them, the general numbness they used to bring to his brain, their astronomical price, the way Mickey looked at him while he was taking them.

Like he was made of glass.

«I was having the coolest dream. Didn’t wanna wake up» he said, casually. He shifted on the bed so Mickey would lay next to him, snuggling against his chest. That was their routine, now. Ian’s sleep schedule was still quite weird: he slept a lot more than he normally would. The shrink had said once he got used to his meds, and once they slowly found his perfect cocktail, his body would just naturally feel less and less tired. He was still – not so patiently – waiting for that moment.

So he would sleep till noon, when Mickey would wake him up with his meds. Then they would cuddle a little before lunch time. He would get up, eat. They would go to the Gallagher’s maison. Mickey’d head to work, while Ian would hang out there for the rest of the afternoon, studying for his GED, taking care of Liam. He would never admit it, but it was the best part of the day. Not that he didn’t love the time he spent alone with Mickey – it was just the fact they would trust him with Liam, even if they were never really alone in the house. He was in charge for him. He had a responsibility, of another life, his little brother. And he put in that all his efforts. He would play with him, give him food, read with him – everything he wanted. It made him feel normal, functional. And Liam, sweetheart, didn’t look at him the way all the others used to.

Like he was made of glass.

«Yeah?» Mickey mumbled, squeezing his hand «About what?»

«We were suspended in nothingness. It was beautiful»

«Nothingness?»

«Yeah. Like, there was nothing. We were surrounded by light and silence, and we just sort of floated, and it was… I don’t know. Perfect. Like paradise»

«So your idea of perfection is us being dead?» Mickey wasn’t sure if that scared the shit out of him or if it was just illogically funny. There was still a smile on his face, though, and Ian could feel it, even if his eyes were closed.

«It didn’t feel like being dead, it felt like being very, very alive. But it was different. We were the only two things existing in the entire universe. There was nothing else. No Southside, no responsibilities, no problems, no guns, no fathers, no pills…»

«You really hate’em, uh?»

«It’s not them, it’s what they mean» Ian focused really hard on what he was trying to say. It was difficult to take the words out with the constant awareness of the effect they could have on Mickey – anxiety was already evaporating from his skin like acid «It’s the fact I’m not able to take care of myself anymore. I feel like everything, everything is out of my control. I used to be so organized, so focused, and now I am a fucking puppy, sleeping all the time and not even able to earn the money for my own fucking medicines and therapy. Every day my brain is defeated and my pride is fucking raped. I can’t… stand the way you look at me differently, you treat me differently…»

He felt his eyes sting and his shoulders tremble and it made him so unspeakably angry with himself, how he couldn’t even talk without feeling so weak and vulnerable and just – little. So little and naked and pathetic he couldn’t even recognize himself anymore.

He felt Mickey turn around to face him, he felt his hands on his face, he felt his lips on his lips, he felt his hug, tight, he felt, he felt like he could exist again, but never again like it used to be.

«Tell me different how» Mickey said, tender and calm like summer breeze. Ian wanted to scream and make a scene and hurt him, so maybe he would hurt him back and finally he would be able to recognize them.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his head from his warm chest. He couldn’t trust the world outside, not yet. It was safe here. In his harms.

«Like I’m made of glass» he whispered «You don’t snap at me anymore, you don’t play hard, you are tender and sweet and you always talk with low voice and you caress me and you just… Love me»

«Well, I’m sorry, that must be unbearable» Mickey snorted and rolled his eyes «You are complaining I’m giving you what you used to complain I didn’t give before? You have to take a fucking decision about it man, Jesus»

Ian raised his head to look at him, and Mickey raised an eyebrow when he saw his smile between the tears.

«That! That’s what I missed» he exclaimed, pecking him on the lips «I know you were scared, and I was scared, too. I know nothing will ever be the same. And before it was a fucking mess, and now it’s another mess and it’s somehow better and somehow worse, but I don’t want us to change. Things around us can change. Things in my brain can change. But… you and me. You know? If everything must change, I want us to stay true to ourselves. I want you to yell at me if you’re angry. I want you to snort and be grumpy and call me stupid names I hate, and I want us to fight and fuck, because that’s the best sex we have and you know it, and I want you to stop biting your lip refraining yourself to say what you think. I want you, Mick. Not a Prince Charming who touches me only with gloves. I can take it. I need it. Please?» He was watching him with a supplicant expression, hoping he would just get him like he always did.

Mickey was looking at him with suspicion and amusement all together.

«You think I’ve been treating you too much like a lady?»

«Yup»

«Well, then. You wake the fuck up to take your meds from now on, without me having to shove them in your throat and taking you breakfast in bed. And please, grow a fucking pair. I’ve seen them, so unless you lost’em during the night, I’m pretty sure you are a man and not a fucking teenage drama queen. And maybe you could also acknowledge the existence of my dick from time to time, you know? I’m done giving you head anytime without getting anything in return…» Ian opened his mouth to talk, his eyes wide in indignation, but Mickey put a finger on his lips «I am not finished. Wash your clothes, I’m not Mary fucking Poppins. Since you basically live here, you could help keep this shithole at least barely decent. And I’m telling you another thing, tough guy. I love you and I’m gonna fucking take care of you for how much time I want and however I want, and if I wanna play fucking Prince Charming then I’m gonna play it and you are gonna fucking enjoy it, you don’t get a say in it, so just shut up and stop complaining, you ungrateful little bitch!»

It was the oddest fight they ever had, followed by the best sex they ever had.

Maybe everything must change to let everything stay the same.


End file.
